


Take the Long Way Home

by johnny cade (johnnycake)



Series: Rebellious Causes [1]
Category: Rebel Without a Cause (1955)
Genre: Implied abuse, M/M, Runaway, trans!Plato
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 13:46:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15171986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnnycake/pseuds/johnny%20cade
Summary: Jim gets a frightened call from Plato at 2 a.m.





	Take the Long Way Home

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Hit the Road Jack](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13221882) by [dyingpoet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingpoet/pseuds/dyingpoet). 



> THIS IS ALL DYINGPOET’S FAULT. SHE TOLD ME TO WATCH THIS MOVIE AND REMIX HER FICS SO HERE WE ARE. as usual pls make sure u read her original as well.

Jim couldn’t remember the last time the phone had rung in the middle of the night. Maybe it hadn’t ever happened. But as he opened his eyes, blinking blearily, seeing the flashing red light on the phone next to his bed, signaling an incoming call, he felt sure he’d heard his parents speaking on the phone at night before and wondered vaguely what that conversation had been about. That’d been in another town. Maybe even another state. They moved around so much he couldn’t keep track anymore. His parents were currently out of town, however, and he had the house to himself for the rest of the week.

The only thing he _was_ sure of, as he pushed back his blankets and picked up the receiver, not even bothering to turn on the lights, was that no one could be calling him in the middle of the night for a good reason. He checked the clock as he brought the receiver to his ear. It was two in the morning. If it couldn’t wait till morning, it had to be some sort of an emergency.

“Hello?” he said, his voice thick with sleep as he rubbed the crust from his eyes.

“J-Jim? Is that you?” the voice on the other end shook violently and sounded near tears, but Jim recognized the voice immediately. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Plato,” he said quietly feeling concern build in his chest, “what is it, kid? You okay?”

“N-no,” Plato gasped out. There was a choking sound that Jim would later figure out was a sob. “I ran away, Jim. I dunno where I am. I just-I just ran until I couldn’t run no more and it’s dark and I can’t see anything. And-and it’s so _cold_ , Jim. I forgot my jacket.”

 _He always get cold,_ Jim thought to himself, clutching the receiver.

He always ran away too. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. It seemed every other week Plato was calling him because of something that had happened. Jim didn’t mind. He liked being there for the kid. He needed _some_ one. He had Pam, his maid, but Plato had a hard time opening up to people. Jim still couldn’t figure out why he’d opened up to him and _not_ Pam when he’d known Pam since he was a little kid.

“It’s gonna be fine, kid, I promise,” Jim said into the receiver, already standing, grabbing his jeans and jacket he’d thrown onto the floor before getting into bed that night. “Can you see anything around you? Any street signs, maybe? I’m gonna come get you, okay?”

“Um, there’s-there’s a big building and a payphone out front. That’s-that’s what I’m talking to you on now,” Plato replied, his voice still shaking. He paused and there was another choked sob. “I think the street is Mulberry and Maple. I dunno, Jim. I can’t see anything.”

Plato hated bright lights, but he also hated when it was too dark. And when it got too dark, sometimes Plato would hide and no one would be able to find him. Jim prayed as he pulled on his jeans and shrugged on his jacket that he would have the good sense not to do that now, no matter how scared he actually got. Even thinking about it made something twist painfully in Jim’s heart. Plato didn’t like talking about his past and Jim wondered often what all had happened to him to make him into the jumpy, scared boy he was now.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, kid, I promise,” Jim said again. “I’m gonna hang up now. You stay right where you are, so I can find you okay?”

“Okay,” Plato replied, his voice sounding strangled, as though he were trying to hold back tears.

“Just hold on, I’m coming,” Jim said and he hung up the phone.

Jim ran down the stairs so fast, he tripped down the last few steps and almost fell flat on his face, breaking his nose or his neck. He had never been this on edge in his entire life before. Not even when they’d moved last time and that had been because someone had caught him kissing another boy. But that was because he could handle this. He could handle moving around and his parents’ wrath and the way people looked at him like he was a deadly disease.

Plato was different.

He was soft and scared and hurt in a way that made Jim want to protect him from the world so he didn’t get more scared and more hurt. But Plato’s own mind was turned against him. Sometimes he saw things that weren’t there. That was why he’d killed those puppies in this neighbor’s yard. That was one of the few things Plato _had_ revealed to him: it’d been because he’d see them as something else, something dangerous that was coming after him and he didn’t know how to stop it.

It had been why he’d turned that gun on Buzz’s friends in the planetarium. Once Jim and Judy had left him and Buzz’s friends had appeared, something had snapped in his brain and suddenly Plato was scared, terrified, afraid of everyone because everyone was the enemy and the only way to get rid of them was to protect himself. It was why he’d had his mother’s gun in the first place.

As Jim opened his garage and got into his car, he realized he still felt guilty about that. The look on Plato’s face when he’d found him after Plato had accidentally tried shooting at him had broken his heart, the look of fear and abandonment. It made Jim wonder how many times something like that had happened before as well as what part of Plato’s mind he’d triggered and tortured by doing the same thing. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to make up for that.

Jim drove as fast as he could, going through red lights and past stop signs like they were suggestions rather than laws.

The place Plato had described was past the train tracks and close to the center of town. He thought it was the justice building, but he wasn’t sure. However, when he reached Mulberry and Maple, he saw that’s exactly what it was. He stared up at the tall, imposing building as he got out of his car and prayed silently that Plato hadn’t broken int and decided to hide somewhere inside. The only reason he’d found him in the planetarium was because he’d known where he’d be. He had no idea where Plato would hide in the justice building.

Still, he saw no one outside. There was no one in the lit payphone booth either just a few yards away and there didn’t seem to be anyone sitting on the steps of the building or standing near it either. Jim cursed silently. He was just about to yell as loud as he could for Plato, hoping that by some miracle the kid would appear out of the shadows when he suddenly saw him, pressed up against the side of the stairs of the building, rocking back and forth, his arms wrapped around himself. He couldn’t see him because he was mostly in shadow. The only indication he was there was the slight movement of the shadows all around him.

Jim ran to him and knelt in front of him, watching him cry for a moment, speechless.

He had never been good at comforting people and, seeing Plato so tormented right now broke his heart and made him feel useless as he tried to figure out what to do, how to comfort him, how to make everything better. He decided to start simple. “What happened?”

“I hate her,” Plato whispered, not looking at Jim. “I hate her,” he said again, his voice rising in volume. “I hate her! I hate her! I hate her! And she hates me!” He looked up at Jim as he said this and that was when Jim saw the bruise on Plato’s cheek.

He let out a gasp and grabbed Plato automatically by the chin, turning his face to see better in the moonlight the bruise that was forming there. “Did...did she do that? Your mother?” There was only one woman who made Plato feel this way, Jim knew, and it sure as hell wasn’t Pam.

Plato pulled his chin out of Jim’s fingers, turning away, tears streaming down his cheeks, each one catching the moonlight as he said, “She came home. I always wake up when she comes home cause...I wanna see her. I...I love her. She’s my ma. But...she’s always drinking. She’s always got something to drink in her hand. And she always looks so...mad. And disappointed. And every time I see her she calls me things...names.”

“What names?” Jim asked. He wanted to reach forward and squeeze Plato’s hand, hug him maybe, but he wasn’t sure how Plato would react to that. He wasn’t sure he should even touch him at all right now with how he was feeling.

“Worthless,” Plato went on, still not looking at Jim. “Stupid. Ugly. Selfish. Spoiled. Ungrateful. Rude. Rotten. Mean. She calls me everything horrible she can think of. And...I don’t know what is and isn’t true anymore.”

Jim really wanted to hug Plato then, but instead, he took his chin, made him look at him again and said, “Your ma is wrong, Plato. She doesn’t know anything about you.”

Plato’s lower lip trembled and his entire body shook as his face twisted, more tears spilling down his cheeks as Jim’s words. “How-how d’you know that?” he asked.

“Because _I_ know you,” Jim replied firmly. “And Pam knows you. And we both think you’re amazing, kid. _We_ love you. We don’t hurt you either. So why not trust us instead?”

Plato gave a small sad smile and said nothing and that action alone made Jim’s heart break more. He knew what the silence meant. It meant Plato thought he was wrong. Jim didn’t know how to convince him that he was actually the one who was right. How could he when Plato’s parents had spent almost his entire life brainwashing him, trying to convince him that he wasn’t worth their time or their effort or anyone else’s time or effort either?

It was then that Jim noticed Plato shaking.

 _He’s always cold,_ he thought again, shrugging off his bright red jacket and wrapping it around Plato’s trembling shoulders.

Plato’s fingers curled into the edges of the jacket, pulling it more tightly around him. Not for the first time Jim wanted to take Plato to some remote place in the world, where there was no one else, no one who would ever want to hurt him, and show him how beautiful life could be when there weren’t shitty people in it. Not for the first time he wondered what had happened to him to make him this way.

“Can we go to your place?” Plato asked, his voice was barely more than a whisper.

He didn’t look at Jim. Jim could tell he was afraid he would say no, but Jim would never send him back to his mother. He didn’t know her, but he knew enough. He wouldn’t let that woman hurt Plato again. Not as long as he was around to stop it.

Plato didn’t say anything as Jim helped him to his feet and to his car, his arm wrapped around him. He tried to think of the things Plato’s mother might have said to him and it wasn’t too hard. Jim’s own mother had said some pretty awful things to him. Every time they moved. They moved every time Jim did something she didn’t approve of and he was sick of it.

 _If she didn’t plan to have a kid like me, she shouldn’t have had kids,_ he thought, letting Plato lean on him as he lead him to the car.

Plato laid down once Jim helped him into the passenger seat, his eyes closing almost instantly. Once Jim got into the driver’s side, Plato’s head laying in his lap, Plato was fast asleep, curled in on himself like a small child. Jim was glad he was taking him back to his place. Pam was a good person, he knew that, but Plato’s parents were not and if his mother was there, he wasn’t going to leave him. Not there. Not with her.

By the time they pulled into Jim’s driveway, Plato was fast asleep. Jim, not wanting to wake him after the day he’d had, picked him up bridal style and, opening the garage door awkwardly, let them both inside. It wasn’t until the door was closed again and they were in the living room that Plato stirred, shifting in Jim’s arms. His eyes fluttered and he drew his brows together, frowning slightly as he said, “Jim? Lemme down. I can walk.”

Jim almost laughed. “Nuh uh,” he said, surprising even himself. “You’ve had a long day.”

Plato struggled a little more. “C’mon, Jim.”

Jim tightened his hold on him. “Plato...just...let someone take care of you for once, okay?”

Plato’s struggling stopped immediately and he looked up at Jim, his brown eyes wide. “Okay,” he said, his voice quiet. “Okay, Jim. I’ll stop.”

For a moment, Jim felt guilty. Plato would do anything for him and he knew it. He’d jump off the Empire State building if he asked him to.

Jim led them both inside. He didn’t set Plato down until they were in his bedroom and he was already throwing Plato a pair of over-sized sweatpants and a t-shirt for him to wear to bed that night. However, when he turned to him, Plato was already picking at the clothes, looking nervous. “I don’t wanna take your clothes,” he said quietly, looking at him. “Or your bed.”

But Jim was already shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s a big bed. We can share. And plenty more clothes than those.”

Plato didn’t say anything, but slowly changed out of the clothes Jim had found him in to the ones Jim had given him. He looked like he was drowning in the overlarge t-shirt and sweatpants and Jim had to choke back the laughter that rose in his throat, but the kid looked sweet. Comfortable. And that was the ultimate goal.

Once Plato was out of his stuff, uncomfortable clothes, he crawled into Jim’s bed, pulling the blankets around him. Jim watched him drift off to sleep as he changed into the clothes he’d worn the night before that were still lying on the floor. He tried to imagine what Plato might be thinking about or dreaming, but Plato was a mystery to him. He always had been. Maybe that was why he liked him so much: he was so much harder to figure out than everyone else.

Jim wore only a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants to bed as well and he climbed in next to Plato slowly, not wanting to wake him. However, as he wrapped his arm around Plato, he let out a gasp.

“Jim.” But he said his voice softly, like a prayer, a happy sigh, rather than a question.

Jim kissed Plato’s temple and Plato relaxed. “Go back to sleep,” he said quietly, wrapping his arms around his middle. Plato laced his fingers through Jim’s sleepily as he did so.

“Okay,” Plato said, his breath coming out as a sigh, his breathing becoming even once more as he fell back to sleep.

Jim smiled. For the first time in his life, he felt at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> yes this is supposed to be an au where plato lives and him and jim have been friends for more than 20 fucking hours. also i might make these into a verse of their own since i see plato as a trans boy and jim as genderfluid and both of them as gay, but we'll see if i write anymore from this universe first.


End file.
